In Another Life
by Syshe
Summary: A modern-day girl is transported to Tortall, but not to the Royal Palace...and not on the right side of the law. *CHAPTER 6 UP!!!* YAY! R&R!
1. Sheboygan

YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SYSHE HAS RETURNED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! After about two months. But in junior high, they give you so much bleedin' homework, like you're gonna wither away and die if you have nothing better to do than write a few essays for English or read a couple hundred pages for science each night. But I DO. That's why I'm writing THIS. DUH. Anyways...  
  
This story that you are about to read is my first attempt at one of those "zapped into Tortall" stories. But instead of going to the palace, by char ends up in-oops. Can't tell. That'd give away half the story. But please be honest with it, if it's good or bad or I gotta explain something better...It's kinda confusing in the beginning, but a bunch of stuff is explained in the middle. The first paragraph is just kinda like what you'd find on the back of a book; I just wanted to include it; it has nothing to do with anything because it is restated later on.  
  
Okay. Well, I've carried on long enough now. I'll just get on the story.  
  
Disclaim: Everything you recognize is owned by Tamora Pierce. Everything you don't is owned by someone else. Me.  
  
  
  
I was hanging up some shirts in my new closet, which is basically a lie, because I was shoving them in, not hanging them, and the closet was so overstuffed it could've just been a box with a doors. But I was putting away some shirts, and suddenly, something hard fell from the top shelf and hit me in the head. I swore, then reached down and picked up whatever it was that had hit me. Rubbing my sore nose, I saw that it was a book, thick and bound with leather, with the title stamped on the front: "Alanna, the First Adventure"...  
  
***  
  
When I found out about Sheboygan, I was happy. Well, as happy as a person can be, when their two choices, cleanly laid out by the juvenile court, of course, are probation and Sheboygan, or badly styled uniforms and reform school. So I was happy. Lucky, really. I had relatives in Sheboygan: my mom's sister, Lori, and her husband, Dave. I was going to stay with them in their apartment, go to the local junior high, and try not to get into any trouble.  
  
I could tell you about the car ride over here, which was three and a half hours long, but it would be extremely boring and mundane, seeing that the only exciting thing that happened was when I started making faces in the rear view mirror and Callahann, the probation officer who drove me, snapped at me and threatened to put me in handcuffs if I didn't stop. Yay. Trust me, driving non-stop to Sheboygan from Chicago is not fun. Especially when your only company is a middle-aged man who has nothing better to do than drone on about the terms of probation list and smoke cigarettes. Honestly, I'm probably going to die of respiratory problems, or at least be poisoned by second-hand smoke, not that anybody would care. But ANYWAYS...  
  
We FINALLY got to Lori and Dave's apartment (Lorianne B. Kendson and David. R. Kendson according to the paper Callahann gave me), and all the necessary introductions and things were made. After all, I had only met my only living aunt and uncle twice, once at a family reunion when I was a baby (I don't remember that) and once when Lori came to see mom in the hospital in Chicago.  
  
Lori showed me to the guest bedroom ("YOUR new room, Randi...") and apologized that the curtains were not washed (like I would notice) and the closet was so full (I hardly have enough clothes to GO in a closet), but they had only got word of me coming a week ago, so they didn't have much time to prepare, with "their busy schedules". I said it was fine, then she left me in there alone to unpack and went to go help Dave with dinner.  
  
The first thing I did was open the window, which was tightly locked, on purpose I assumed. The air in there seemed stale, like in a doctor's office. I needed to breathe. Then I threw my school backpack in a corner, knowing that I wouldn't need it for at least a couple days. (I was pleased by that thought.) Then I started to unpack my clothes.  
  
I was hanging up some shirts in my new closet, which is basically a lie, because I was shoving them in, not hanging them, and the closet was so overstuffed it could've just been a box with a doors. But I was putting away some shirts, and suddenly, something hard fell from the top shelf and hit me in the head. I swore, then reached down and picked up whatever it was that had hit me. Rubbing my sore nose, I saw that it was a book, thick and bound with leather, with the title stamped on the front: "Alanna, the First Adventure." It looked new. The leather was recently polished, and the pages that I flipped through her crisp. I looked for a name on the cover and the title page, but there was none. The book simply began on page two. Expecting something quite different, I found that the text was tiny and neat, with pictures of castles, knights, and deserts scattered throughout the chapters.  
  
Abandoning my unpacking, I flopped down on the bed and began to read...  
  
  
  
So, how'd ya like it? Do tell. As in reviewing. I'm not gonna update til I've got AT LEAST FIVE REVIEWS. GOT IT?????????????????????????????? 


	2. The Zapping

Hmph. I said I wasn't going to update until I got FIVE REVIEWS, which I haven't gotten yet, but my Muse (which is currently in the form of Peter the dragon, Puff's brother visiting from Missouri, who is sitting on my shoulder) wouldn't stop breathing down my neck, which is quite uncomfortable, seeing that dragons breathe flames...So I had to write. Here's chapter two.getting closer to the actual ZAPping...  
  
Oh, by the way, thanks to the TWO PEOPLE that did review (I am an impatient little thing), The Blind Assassin and Alebaba46...THANKS PEEPS!  
  
Disclaim: I own Randi and maybe some other stuff later on. But until later on, Tamora Pierce owns everything. Huh.  
  
Twins  
  
"That is my decision. We need not discuss it," said the man at the desk. He was already looking at a book. His two children left the room, closing the door behind him.  
  
"He doesn't want us around," the boy muttered. "He doesn't care what WE want."  
  
"We KNOW that," was the girl's answer. "He doesn't care about anything, except his books and scrolls."  
  
The boy hit the wall. I don't WANT to be a knight! I want to be a great sorcerer! I want to slay demons and walk with the gods-"  
  
"D'you think I want to be a lady?" his sister asked. "'Walk slowly, Alanna,'" she said primly. "'Sit still, Alanna. Shoulders back, Alanna.' As if that's all I can do with myself!" She paced the floor. "There has to be another way!"  
  
The boy watched the girl. Thom and Alanna of Trebond were twins, both with red hair and purple eyes. The only difference between them-as far as most people could tell-was the length of their hair. In face and body shape, dressed alike, they would've looked alike.  
  
  
  
I turned over on the bed. I had only finished the first page, and this was starting to get interesting.  
  
  
  
"Face it," Thom told Alanna. "Tomorrow YOU leave for the convent, and I go to the palace. That's it."  
  
"Why do you get all the fun?" she complained. "I'll have to learn sewing and dancing. You'll study tilting, fencing-"  
  
"D'you think I LIKE that stuff?" he yelled. "I HATE falling down and whacking at things! YOU'RE the one who likes it, not me!"  
  
She grinned. "YOU should've been Alanna. They always teach the girls magic- " The thought hit her so suddenly that she gasped. "Thom. That's it!"  
  
From the look on her face, Thom knew his sister had just come up with yet another crazy idea. "WHAT'S it?" he asked suspiciously.  
  
Alanna looked around and checked the hall for servants. "Tomorrow he gives us the letters for the man who trains the pages and the people at the convent. You can imitate his writing, so you can do new letters, saying that we're twin boys. YOU go to the convent. Say in the letter that you're to be a sorcerer. The Daughters of the Goddess are the ones who train young boys in magic, remember? When you're older, they'll send you to the priests. And I'll go to the palace and learn to be a knight!"  
  
  
  
Suddenly this story, whatever it was, was beginning to sound a little like my own life. How it seemed I was condemned to only one path, in my case reform school, in Alanna's case the convent, when suddenly, another path opened up, changing all future events and possibilities. It's funny how life sometimes does that.  
  
  
  
"That's crazy," Thom argued. "What about your hair? And you can't go swimming naked, either. And you'll turn into a girl-you know, with a chest and everything."  
  
"I'll cut my hair," she replied. "And-well, I'll handle the rest when it happens."  
  
"What about Coram and Maude? They'll be traveling with us, and they can tell us apart. They'll know we aren't twin boys."  
  
She chewed her thumb, thinking this over. "I'll tell Coram we'll work magic on him if he says anything," she said at last. "He hates magic-that ought to be enough. And maybe we can talk to Maude."  
  
Thom considered it, looking at his hands. "You think we could?" he whispered.  
  
Alanna looked at her twin's hopeful face. Part of her wanted to stop this before it got out of hand, but not a very big part. "If you don't lose you nerve," she told her twin. And if I don't lose mine, she thought.  
  
"What about father?" He was already looking into the distance, seeing the City of the Gods.  
  
Alanna shook her head. "He'll forget us, once we're gone."  
  
  
  
Forget...I wondered if mom had forgotten me. After all, it had been a couple weeks since she last saw me. Had she become too wrapped up in her own life again, that she wouldn't trouble herself (not that she ever had) on checking in on her only daughter? I seriously doubted it. I felt my muscles tense and my face flush, just thinking about her.  
  
  
  
She eyed Thom. "D'you want to be a sorcerer bad enough?" she demanded. "It means years of studying and work for both of us. Will you have the guts for it?"  
  
Thom straightened his tunic. His eyes were cold. "Just show me the way!"  
  
Alanna nodded. "Let's go find Maude."  
  
  
  
I would've continued reading, but there was a knock on my closed door and Lori opened it and stuck her head through.  
  
"Almost done?" she asked.  
  
I got that book under my sweatshirt quicker than you can say "red-handed". For some reason I didn't want my aunt to see it. I don't know why, really, it just didn't seem to...belong. It was as if it had come from another world, not a closet. And it was too similar to my own life for my liking.  
  
"Yeah," I said, sitting up. "I'm done."  
  
She stared at me a moment, then said, "Okay...Supper's ready, then. Are you okay? You look pale."  
  
"Huh? I'm fine," I lied.  
  
"Alright...Then go wash up." She shut the door.  
  
I sighed with relief. I took the book out from under my sweatshirt, and looked at it closely. The leather, which was polished before, looked different. It was still shiny, but in a different way, like the letters were coming alive...  
  
That last thought brought me to reality. "Randi," I muttered to myself, "you are really losing it. Get a grip." I shoved the book under the mattress on the side not facing the door, pulled the comforter well over it, then joined my new guardians in the dining room.  
  
***  
  
After dinner, which consisted of vegetarian pizza, lettuce salad, and cranberry juice, I took Lori's advice of "turning in early". It wasn't that I was tired; I just wanted to get another look at that book.  
  
I changed into a pair of flannel pants and an overlarge t-shirt, flipped off my light, then pulled the book out from under my mattress. I held it for a moment, looking at the letters in the fading sun still coming through my window, when suddenly, an enormous surge of heat came out of nowhere.  
  
I dropped the book in horror. My hands-my hands felt like they were on fire! It was hotter than a fire-maybe hotter than ten. I turned them over, and realized I was breathing hard. I examined them--nothing was wrong. They looked exactly the same as the always had. I knelt there a moment, trying to get my heart rate to return to normal, trying to figure out what had just happened. I wondered if I was losing my mind, or if I was hallucinating, or if I had had a little too stressful of a day. Whatever it was, I didn't care.  
  
Shakily, and avoiding the book, I got up and closed the window, then closed the curtains tightly. Taking a deep breath, I tapped the book with a toe. I don't know what I expected--for it to burst into flames or to transport me into a weird, psychotic book-world? I don't know. Whatever it was, it didn't happen. I knelt down again, thankful, and picked up the book.  
  
There was a flash of bright, white light. Suddenly, I wasn't there anymore. But I wasn't somewhere else. I was someplace in the middle, floating between earth and another universe. My body seemed far away, and I realized I didn't need it anymore. Why would I need a body when my mind stretched out as far as I couldn't see? Why would I need a body when all I could think about was how happy and blissful I was? I felt myself falling, yet staying in one place, then I felt being pulled remarkably fast, so fast that I could hear wind whistling past my face. Then abruptly, the pulling stopped, and I landed incredibly hard on some sort of ground. Everything went black.  
  
  
  
Whoo-wee. That was a shorter chapter than I had planned, but I still got the zapping in. Sorry, peeps, if it's a little disappointing, but half-way through I got a brain fart, and...you know what happens from there. Next chapter will be better and LONGER, I promise.  
  
By the way, d'you know what would make me really happy and blissful? To review. If you don't, I'll sic Peter on you. 


	3. The King's Forest

YAY! TWO MORE REVIEWERS! Thanks to L. A. E. and Kadgal, I have become satisfyingly happy. Being happy is good. Getting reviews is good. Being said is bad. (Hey-it rhymes.) No reviews are bad. Do you speak my language? REVIEW!  
  
Okay...I promised this would be longer, which it is, but as for better grimaces I dunno. You need to tell me. And I know I use about five billion on the same words in here (e.g.-"glance" and "explain") and sorry, but my mind hasn't been working very well lately. Maybe I should clear it before I go any farther. But I've almost got the fourth chapter done besides this, and I wanna post...Peter is back in Missouri; maybe that is the problem.  
  
Disclaimer: If I owned any of this, besides the narrator, would I be writing this thing called a FANFIC??? No.  
  
I opened one eye. All I could see was green. Briefly I wondered if I were back in jail, in a puke-green cell with graffiti plastered over the walls...It took me a minute to realize that the green were leaves. They rustled overhead, like some sort of weird, mystical music. I was flat on my back, my arms and legs spread. I closed the eye, then with some effort opened both of them. I raised my head above the ground a few inches, and looked at myself. I was still in my pajamas, and the book was beside me, a couple feet away. My right wrist was crooked at some odd angle. I tried to move it, but nearly cried out in pain. Broken, I thought. At least it wasn't the one I wrote with. I sat up, leaning on my left hand. My head was throbbing violently. It HAD to be worse than the hangover I got that one time after trying out some of mom's liquor cabinet. I'll never do THAT again...I grimaced, then scrubbed my face with my hand. Something was not right.  
  
Where was I?  
  
I appeared to be in some kind of strange forest, judging by the trees and a sparkling blue pond to my left. But there was something wrong with this picture-no animals, no birds singing, not even a cricket chirping. I seemed to be utterly alone. Why would I be alone in a forest? Last thing I remembered, I was sitting in my room in Lori and Dave's apartment...  
  
Slowly I got up, my back feeling as if I had several rather large splinters in it, and my legs feeling as if they weighed a ton each. I picked up the book and tucked in under my shirt. Staggering, and with my right arm cradled to my chest, I made my way to the pond and splashed water on my face. I considered drinking some, but the water looked dirty, so I decided against it.  
  
Abruptly, a voice rang out over the forest: "They're over there!"  
  
It all happened at once. The silence disappeared instantly and was replaced with the sound of galloping horses and an uproar. I stood up quickly, glancing about. What was happening? A rustling sound to my right diverted my attention. Three people darted out from a clump of bushes, all about my age or a little older, one with a suspicious looking object under their shirt. They started to run into the forest. The teens rushed past me, not even looking up, but then one grabbed my by my sleeve, pulling me along.  
  
"C'mon!" the kid, a short girl with pale skin, a golden mane of tightly curled ringlets, and sea-green eyes, hissed. "We gotta run!" She let go of my sleeve then ran after her two friends.  
  
"What?" I said dumbly. "Huh?"  
  
The girl paused behind a tree and motioned frantically.  
  
I took a quick look back at the way she had come. What was she doing, telling me to run like that? Who did she think she was? Or-who did she think I was? But on the other hand...standing up to her rather than some angry horseman I had no idea existed until this moment was easier. I forced my legs into a run, my right hand pressed up against the book and my left arm holding that, and she turned and darted away. I followed her through the forest, very aware of the noises of the oncoming men.  
  
As soon as I was running at her side, dodging rocks and tree limbs, I gasped between breaths, "Who-are-you?"  
  
The girl gave me a puzzled look and kept running. "We gotta catch up with Asric and Damien," she told me, not even breathing hard. "We gotta get to the crib, 'fore the King's men find us. When we get there, ye take the stuff, got it? Go down and deliver it to Jorshan, then meet us back at the Dancin' Dove by midnight. Oth'wise, Arien won't get it, and we'll be in deep shit. He'll have our 'eads for sure." She jogged on.  
  
"What?" I screeched. I didn't get half of what she'd said-King? Dancing Dove? 'Have our heads'? I only recognized the word "crib"-it was street slang for hideout. And who were these people-Asric, Damien, and Jordan or whatever? What the hell was this girl talking about? Did she think I was someone else?  
  
I wanted to stop. My legs were aching and I couldn't breath very well. "Stop-" I managed to squeak out. "Wait-"  
  
"C'mon," urged the girl, "we is almost there!"  
  
Feeling extremely confused and quite pissed, I reluctantly made my way through some more trees, growing closer together now, and some thicket. I wondered if we were getting anywhere, or just going in circles, or if my guide even knew where she was going. My instinct told me we were headed south, but my head was so messed up, it could've been north. It seemed like forever, but the horsemen's shouts were sounding farther away, and the girl was starting to slow down. She began to walk briskly, only once peeking over her shoulder to see if I were following her.  
  
"Here," she said abruptly, stopping. "Get in."  
  
She had stopped at a wooden door set back into a mound of fallen trees and boulders. The door was about two and a half feet high, partially hidden by a dead log.  
  
"There?! I won't fit in THERE," I exclaimed.  
  
"Ye will if ye crawl," she informed me pertly. She tapped a series of knocks on the door, and it must have been a password or something, because the door opened by itself. BY ITSELF. It slid back into the rock it was built into. The door opened up to a kind of passage leading away into darkness.  
  
I stared at it in awe.  
  
"Ye know," the girl said, in a conversational voice, "I thought mayhaps the King might've wanted you to do these kinda missions before." She stared at me a moment, running a hand through her wild hair. "I know he likes ye on the street watch and such, but YE never bein' in the King's forest? It's almost a joke." She knelt and slid into the tunnel, vanishing in a moment.  
  
Annoyed, I rolled my eyes and said, "I would greatly appreciate it if you actually told me what was going on."  
  
"Don't be stupid, Zarif. Ye gotta be more serious. This is dangerous work." The girl's voice was muffled. "Or mayhaps you don't think so. Mayhaps I better tell the King to lemme bring summon else next time. C'mon. Get in."  
  
"Hey-just a minute! What'd you call me?" I asked, crawling along after her in the tunnel. The door slid shut behind me; I jumped. "My name's Randi, not-"  
  
"Shuddup," the girl interrupted. She stopped so suddenly I almost fell on top of her.  
  
"What?" I whispered.  
  
We waited. Just when I thought I was going to go insane from the darkness, I heard voices coming from outside.  
  
"I can't find 'em, Sir," one man was saying, in a desperate sounding voice.  
  
"You had better find them, Charnot, or I'll have your skin," another man, closer, said venomously. When his Highness finds out the ingredients are missing, you and I will both be in serious shit! You were supposed to be GUARDING the door, not taking time off-"  
  
"I wasn't, Sir-"  
  
"I don't care, Charnot, I just don't care! Find those sneaky little bastards or I'm going to personally make sure you won't ever see the inside of the palace again!"  
  
I listened to the sounds of a horse trotting away, my stomach tight with fear. What was so important in that those kids had taken, to make "Sir" so upset? And what kind of a name is "Sir"? And "his Highness"? you'd think I would've gone back to the Dark Ages, I swear.  
  
And then it hit me so suddenly I about gasped out loud.  
  
Kings? Horses? Forest? I was in the book. I was IN the book! Alanna, that had been her name, she had wanted to become a knight, and her brother a sorcerer, learning magic and...  
  
The thought was so incredible, so unbelievable, and yet it was really happening. I wanted to pinch myself, but my muscles wouldn't seem to work. This couldn't be happening. It was all a dream, I had probably just fallen asleep, and when I woke up, I'd be back in Sheboygan...  
  
And yet some horrible, insane side of me KNEW it wasn't a dream. It couldn't be. I had been zapped into some crazy story out of a book--there was no denying it. That would explain the white light I had seen, though.  
  
I closed my eyes, and took several deep breaths. Beside me the girl-I still hadn't gotten her name-sat up. I did so too, and leaned against the tunnel's wall, trying to believe this. I closed my eyes and put my face in my arms.  
  
The girl sighed, and then was quiet. I expected her to say something, or at least continue to crawl, but she just sat there. I looked up, but wasn't prepared for what I saw.  
  
A perfectly round ball of golden fire sat in the girl's palm. It was real, I could feel the heat coming from it and it lit up the dreary passage, but it looked oddly more like glass, not flames.  
  
"What-" I stuttered, "what-"  
  
"I know. It's bad, isn't it?" She sighed again. She was staring into her golden orb, but her eyes were far. She looked at me. "I'm sorry. I dint mean to get you into this, Zarif, I really dint-"  
  
"Stop calling me that! My name is RANDI, not ZARIF!" It just burst out of me. I knew I was shouting, but right now I didn't care. This was just too much. And anyway, Ms. Cleeves, the social worker, wasn't here to tell me "to learn to control my anger".  
  
The girl rolled her eyes. "Yeah, and my name's Princess Josiane."  
  
"Who are you?" I asked warily. I didn't care if I wasn't making sense to her. I needed some answers, and I needed them now. "I don't have any idea where I am or what I'm doing here, but you had better tell me quick or I think my sanity is going to be ultimately destroyed forever."  
  
A little too patiently, the girl explained, "My name's Eve, remember? Yer here 'cause I suggested t'the King that ye'd be good for the job, right? Ye agreed, and now we're down in the tunnel in the King's Forest. If we don't get out of here pretty damn fast, we're gonna be in a helluva lota trouble- "  
  
"You don't get it, do you?" I yelled. "You don't get that I have no friggin' clue what friggin' planet I'm on, or if I'm trapped in a friggin' time warp, or what! I read a book, and the book brought me HERE. You don't bloody get that, do you? I fell out of the sky and into a woods and now I'm here, 'cause I followed YOU and now I have no friggin' idea what I'm doin'!"  
  
She stared at me for a long while. I stared back, defiant.  
  
"Goddess," the girl, Eve, whispered finally. "Ye ain't joshin' me, are ye?"  
  
"Does it LOOK like I'm joking?" I snapped. Every instinct in my body screamed for me to punch her face in, but I didn't. I couldn't. If my wrist wouldn't' have been hurt, I might've.  
  
She wet her lips, then glanced at the fire. "But-but-" She paused, and took a deep breath. "What did ye say yer name was, again?"  
  
"Randi DiCarlos. I'm from Chicago." From the blank look on her face, I knew she had no idea where Chicago was. "Chicago," I explained, "is a city in Illinois. America. EARTH???" Finally she nodded but I knew she still didn't understand. "But I got the book in Sheboygan."  
  
"Book? You said it-it-brought you...here?"  
  
I pulled the book out, feeling only slightly stupid to be wearing clothes I normally slept in. From this world, wherever the hell it was, she probably wouldn't even know the difference. The book shone in the light from her fire. Eve set down the fire in her lap, like it was a pet or something. A part of me knew it was magic, but I didn't want it to be true. I handed the book to her. She studied it, then flipped through the pages, only briefly looking at them, She ran a curious finger over some of the pictures, then handed it back to me.  
  
"I can't read," she explained.  
  
"What, you never went to school?" I asked sarcastically.  
  
But she looked confused and said, "School? You mean classes? Well-up in the palace the pages learn to read and write, and do numbers and stuff, besides all the knight stuff. But I ain't ever took no classes-at least not in that kinda thing." She grinned slyly at me.  
  
So she was a thief. What are the chances of that? I thought to myself. I get pulled into another world and whom do I end up with in a dark tunnel? A thief. I am condemned to be in dark tunnels forever, I decided.  
  
"Fine then," I said, taking the book back. "But how are we gonna get out of HERE?" I waved a hand around the passage that was beginning to feel smaller and smaller. "And HOW am I going to get back home?"  
  
"Firs' one's easy," Eve said. "We crawl 'til we get to the crib. 'Bout ten minits from there, I'd say." She began to crawl away, the orb in hand.  
  
I had no choice but to continue. We didn't talk; I could sense Eve thinking out what I had said. It was hard to move slowly with my wrist, so mainly I staggered and army-crawled, but soon, as she had promised, the tunnel's ceiling began to rise, and in no time at all we could stand fully up without practically decapitating ourselves.  
  
"Here," Eve said, stopping at another wooden door. She knocked. While we waited for it to open, she said, "By the way, this is Corus. Corus, Tortall. You know, like your Chicago?"  
  
I nodded. Tortall. Nice name, I thought wickedly.  
  
A boy I recognized to be one of the thieves running ahead of us opened the door. He ushered us into a room beyond, glancing curiously at my pajamas.  
  
The room behind the door was small, but a room all the same. The walls her stone, and several torches were lit, held up by brackets on the walls. The floor was dirt, and a boy was sitting in the corner, clutching the bag that looked full. I guessed that what was in it was what they had stole- "ingredients". There was a door on the far side of the room, leading somewhere new.  
  
Eve seemed to be talking to the boy who had opened the door for us, so I studied her two friends. The boy Eve was talking to was tall, with deep black skin and light brown eyes. His hair was in about fifty little braids, all sticking out in odd places on his head. He was wearing a ragged looking shirt, with the sleeves cut off, and pants that only came to his knees. They looked like capris, but from what I knew about medieval times, they probably were britches. He was barefoot, as was the other boy. The other boy had light brown skin and slanted golden eyes. His black hair he wore long, to about his shoulders, with a yellowed bandana tied around his head to keep it out of his face. The vest, shirt, and britches he wore were caked with mud. He seemed bored.  
  
I turned back to Eve.  
  
"Now, I know you're not going to believe this," she was saying, "but this isn't Zarif."  
  
"What d'ya mean that isn't Zarif?" the boy asked. "I can SEE it's her."  
  
"No, Damien, it's not. It's kinda hard to..."  
  
I tuned her out, wondering how she was going to explain this to her two friends, and sat down in the opposite corner of the boy who was apparently Asric. I sat back, suddenly realizing how tired and stiff I was. My eyelids began to droop, and I yawned. Just a few hours ago I was sitting in a car with Callahann...That seemed like such a long time ago..Cradling my right arm, I slipped into a state of unconsciousness. With the fire so warm in my arms, why shouldn't I sleep?  
  
  
  
I know, the ending was a bit confusing...you'll understand later on. Review. (You'd think with people telling you to do that all the time, people would start to catch on?) 


	4. Jorshan

Thanks to my latest reviewers! * mutters * Or, reviewER...Here's the next chapter.  
  
Disclaimer: Guess who I own and who own's the rest that I don't own.  
  
  
  
I awoke to somebody shaking my shoulder. Groaning, I opened my eyes to find Eve standing over me. So it hadn't been all a dream. I really WAS stuck in this book-world.  
  
"You're not making any friends here, you do know that?" I asked her, annoyed, as she helped me to my feet. (A/N: That line's from a British comedy series called "Blackadder". I found it funny, so I put it in. It means that someone's being annoying.)  
  
Eve gave me a half-smile. "Everything's figured out, now," she told me. "I explained to Damien and Asric what happened." The smile faded. "They didn't really believe me..." Brightening, she said, "But I really can't blame them. You an' Zarif look exactly alike. You two cou' be twins."  
  
So the girl, Zarif, looked like me. Identical brown skin, green eyes, brown hair... I could just picture it.  
  
"Who IS this Zarif?" I asked her, looking around the room. It was now empty except for us, but the torches were still burning. Eve's fire had disappeared.  
  
"She's part o' the Rogue-thieves court." I nodded. "She's the best as they come, or for our age, anyways. She's been on the streets for years; some people say since she were born. The King-that's the head o' the Rogue, Jorshan righ' now-uses her on the streets, mainly pickin' purses and robbing the shops, but at the Palace too, burglin' some. She can throw knives, ride, use a bow, sword-everythin'. She's never been in the King's-I mean the REAL king, King Jon'than-Forest 'fore, so that's why I said yesterday I was surprised at that, bein' so good as she is."  
  
I thought about this a moment, then said, "So you believe me."  
  
Her sea-green eyes locked into my own. "Yes."  
  
I sighed. "Good. At least someone does. By the way, where did the guys go- Damien and Asric?"  
  
"Back to the Dancin' Dove-Rogue headquarters."  
  
"What's that?" I asked, pointing to a bag a just realized she was holding.  
  
"Oh-these is some new clothes for ye." Eve took some ragged clothes out of the bag: some black britches, a white shirt with a rip in one sleeve, a dark green tunic, and a black sash. She shoved them into my arms. "We dint want you to be too notice'ble. Even if ye weren't from another world, ye still look like Zarif, and lookin' like Zarif righ' now is bad. Every shop in the district wants 'er head, and she's trouble for my Lord Provost all right."  
  
Provost...wasn't that some kind of title for a jailer or something?  
  
"Ye better'd change. We gotta get outta here soon. Hey-and we need to find ye a healer for that wrist. It's broken. Must've been from yer fall." She turned away.  
  
Oh yeah, my wrist. I brought it close to my face. It looked perfectly fine. It looked-HEALED. I moved it around. It didn't hurt at all. It was as if the break had never happened. "Uh-Eve," I said, my voice shaky. "It-it's not-"  
  
"What?" she turned back.  
  
I moved the wrist for her. "It's not broken anymore."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"It-it doesn't hurt. And it looks fine."  
  
She took my hand and felt the bones. "Yer right..that's odd. Yer not a healer, are ye?"  
  
"A healer?" My face must've looked pretty blank, because Eve laughed, like I had made some joke.  
  
"Have ye got the healing magic?"  
  
I stared at her. "Magic?" She had to be kidding. There was no such thing as magic...Was there? That thing I had seen yesterday-the golden fire-it had to be just some light, right?  
  
"Yeah, magic. What, ye ain't got magic on Earth?"  
  
I shook my head in awe.  
  
She looked surprised. "That's weird. There's four sorts of magic, really...The Gift-that's what I got"-then she HAD made the fire-"Wild Magic- ye can talk to animals, like-the Sight-lets you see things in the present, past or future-and healing. You can make hurt or broken things better." She looked meaningfully at me.  
  
"I haven't got magic," I quickly said.  
  
"It WOULD be strange if ye DID have it," Eve admitted. "Zarif didn't." Leaving it like that, she turned then slipped out the door. "I'll wait for ye out 'ere."  
  
Shaking my head, I quickly changed into the clothes, wondering how they could have ever been popular. No more baggy jeans, Nikes, or dude chains for you, I thought. I kept my shoes and socks on, thinking about how horrible they clashed with my clothes. I had made a point not to where anything brighter than gray for several years (gray's best if you're out at night), and felt slightly uncomfortable wearing bright colors. I stuffed my old clothes in the bag, along with the book, then headed out to where Eve was.  
  
Directly after the door was a staircase winding up, which I almost tripped over. It was too made of stone, just like the walls. I guessed we were in a basement of sorts.  
  
"Ready?" Eve asked. She checked me over.  
  
"Yup," I replied, although I wasn't really. I had to kinda go to the bathroom and my stomach felt like it was touching my backbone. In other words, I was HUNGRY. Plus my teeth felt dirty, my hair wanted (yes, wanted- not needed) to be brushed, and I wished that we could go someplace warmer. It was freezing in these stone rooms, and I never had liked the cold.  
  
"Ye seem to be missin' something..." the girl though aloud. "I wonder...Oh! I know. Here-" She pulled up her sleeves to reveal several sheathed knives. She smiled sweetly at me. "Weapons." Unsheathing two of them, she asked, "Ye know how t'use knives?"  
  
"Of course." I had often used knives back in Chicago. In fact, at least once a week, me and some friends would pick up all the knives we could find in our houses or wherever we happened to be living at the time, then meet downtown behind an old building and practice throwing them. We were getting pretty good until some cops found us and took all the knives away, brought us home, and told us we couldn't go there anymore, unless we wanted to get in some serious trouble. (I had gone back less than a week later.)  
  
"Good," Eve said, handing them to me. "Put 'em by yer wrists-you can get 'em out the fastest that way."  
  
I tested the blade; a small trickle of blood ran down my finger and into my palm. Good. It was sharp. I licked away the blood away then slid the knives into my sleeves.  
  
"Let's go."  
  
I followed her up the stairs. We stopped a door at the top, which was apparently locked. Eve knocked twice, tapped once, then rattled the doorknob. The door opened, and a broad man poked his head out from inside.  
  
"Oh," he said, admitting us. "It's on'y ye, Eve." He stepped back.  
  
The man was massive, probably four feet wide, and short. He looked quick though, and nimble, like he had seen it all and could out-smart you any day. His skin was deathly pale, and he wore a black cloak over his black britches and full-sleeved white shirt. His eyes were like tiny black coals, but they held a laughable twinkle. A sharp goatee looked odd on his stout figure, but also made him look dignified.  
  
"Randi," Eve introduced me, "This is Lord Chester of Everdale. He runs the crib."  
  
The lord winked at me. "Just Chet, to me friends."  
  
"I guess you heard about me," I commented icily.  
  
"I might've," he said. "But on'y that ye and Zarif 'ave swapped spots, from Damien and Asric."  
  
"We didn't SWAP," I said loudly. "I-"  
  
"S'kay, Randi," Eve interrupted quickly. Looking up at Lord Chester, she said, "Thanks for everythin', Chet. We'd gotta be goin' now, though-Jorshan wants us back at the Dancin' Dove."  
  
"Sure," the man said. "I've got more people comin' in anyways. You two be careful now, ye hear? I don't want anyone comin' to my door sayin' you've been picked up by m'Lord Provost."  
  
Eve grinned at him then pulled me through the house and to a door. She opened it and ushered me out.  
  
"What was THAT 'bout?" I asked as soon as we were outside. "Why didn't you want me to-"  
  
"Listen, Randi," Eve sighed. "Just-just don't be tellin' no one that yer from...Earth, 'kay? It might upset certain people." She shifted uneasily.  
  
"Upset? Who would it upset?"  
  
"I don't matter. It's just that we don't want this thing goin' 'round, righ'? So just be quiet 'bout it." Eve began to walk down the street.  
  
I stood there a moment, thinking. What would the people of Tortall do if they knew I was from another planet? Somehow, in the pit of my stomach, I knew they wouldn't like it, and wouldn't react well. I ran to catch up with Eve.  
  
"Are we going back to the Dancing Dove?" I asked. "Do they got food there?"  
  
"Yup," the girl replied, looking straight ahead. She turned a corner. "But getting' food 'ere will be easier."  
  
We had turned into a wider street. If it had been on Earth, it might've been ten lanes wide. And every part of it was filled with some sort of shop, stall, or store. There were little booths selling trinkets and jewelry, and dark men holding onto horses, yelling out prices in a foreign tongue. A long exhibit guarded by mean-looking men held all different sorts of weapons-weapons I had never seen before and certainly never used. There were spiked balls on chains, shiny metal daggers, and poles with sharp- looking ends. One of those could go right through someone, I though excitedly. We passed stalls carrying beads and breads, fish and exotic fruits, cloth and books, shoes and boots, makeup and mirrors. And every inch was filled with people, either dressed in street clothes like us or frivolous gowns and coats.  
  
Eve curved in around me and pointed to a collection of cakes, while muttering "here" in my ear. "C'mon, cousin," she said, loud enough for the people around us to hear. "Mother said we needed to get some cakes."  
  
We stepped up to the stall selling cakes, and she started to examine a few. The woman behind the table, who was wearing a blood-colored dress, eyed us warily. "Keep yer grubby hands off," she spat. "I don't want no dirt on me cakes."  
  
Eve moved over to her. "What's the price on these?" she questioned, nodding towards some large cakes covered in white frosting. Under the table she kicked me in the shin.  
  
On cue I quietly slipped some cakes into the bag at my side, while the woman told Eve, "Those is on special today. On'y a gold noble each."  
  
"A gold noble?!" My partner pretended to look outraged. "On special, you say? No, I don't think we'll be taking any, thanks all the same." She moved away, and I followed, as the woman shot us a look that could kill.  
  
As soon as we were in the crowd, Eve grabbed the bag from me. "Yum," the commented, studying its contents. Looking up at me, she asked, "You've done this before?"  
  
"You'd be surprised," I replied.  
  
We shared the cakes as we walked. The flour tasted coarser than usual, but the cakes were sweeter than what I was used to. And the frosting was rich and creamy. "Who was that? That woman at the shop?"  
  
Eve giggled. "Oh-that's Missus Currell. She's got a reputation for bein' low and cheatin' her customers."  
  
Somehow we found this very funny, because Eve was a thief calling a merchant-now where did that word come from? I though to myself-low. It felt good to laugh, and I thought for the first time that maybe I might survive my stay here.  
  
***  
  
Ten minutes later we were entering a small, run-down inn with a sign out front that read "The Dancing Dove". The common room was smoky, and quite a few people-all thieves, I suspected-were sitting at small wooden tables in groups, or laughing rowdily at the bar, or leaning against the walls, whispering. There were even a couple small children about, running in and out with food and tips. Several women in extremely tight gowns and makeup were sitting on the laps of satisfied-looking men. Eve went up right up to the front table, ignoring all the noise and people. I followed close behind her, not wanting to get lost in this mess. A woman sat at the front table, giggling and eyeing a tall man at the bar.  
  
"Hey, Rispah," Eve greeted the woman. "Jorshan 'round?" (A/N: I dunno if Rispah left the Rogue or not, like George did; I haven't read any of the Kel books. For now, she's in it.)  
  
Tearing her eyes away from the man, the woman, who was apparently Rispah, managed to reply, "Yeah-'e is up in 'is chambers. You wanna see 'im? He ain't busy righ' now."  
  
"Yeah. Thanks."  
  
I followed Eve to that back of the crowded room, and up a flight of wooden stairs. She led me down a dark hallway until we reached a set of double doors at the end. My guide knocked on the door, and a servant answered it immediately. He let us in, then backed away into a corner.  
  
"So this is Jorshan's rooms, eh?" I muttered to Eve.  
  
The walls were wood, the floor covered with finely woven mats. Gold silk curtains covered the windows, and two doors led off probably to a bathroom and bedroom. We were standing in a small sitting room, with red chairs and walnut tables holding lamps.  
  
"Not too bad," I said.  
  
Eve started to reply but stopped when a man swept into the room. He was tall, with tanned skin and large hands and feet. His hair was a handsome chestnut, and it was tied back with a blue ribbon. His eyes looked like they were made of sapphires, they were so blue. He wore not street clothes but a blue silk jacket and britches, and white stocking that looked recently washed.  
  
I frowned, then asked, "YOU'RE the King of Thieves?" It just popped out, and I knew it. But he looked like he belonged in some sort of palace, not an inn with a mildly funny name.  
  
The man, Jorshan, raised an eyebrow. "This must be the imposter," he sniffed to Eve.  
  
Eve glanced at me uneasily. "This is Randi. I dunno where Zarif is."  
  
I huffed. "Imposter? Hello, I did not ASK to be transported into some friggin' book-world, thanks ever so much-"  
  
Eve elbowed me in the side, hard. I shut up.  
  
Jorshan ignored me. "Asric explained to me about the mix-up," he sighed airily, waving his servant away and settling down on one of the chairs. "I HARDLY believe it, of course, but...As you know, I am not one to criticize the Rogue." He took out a white lace-and there's nothing else to call it- handkerchief, and blotted his forehead with it. It wasn't even sweaty. "Damien delivered the supplies to Arien. I'm assuming that you will take care of...our guest," Jorshan said to Eve.  
  
My ears burned. I wanted to pound that snobby little bastard's face in. What was Eve thinking, bringing me to him?  
  
"Of course, yer Majesty," I heard Eve saying. "Thank ye. We'll be goin' now."  
  
The "King" dismissed us with a wave of his hand. Eve steered me out of the room. I blew up just outside.  
  
"Who the hell does he think he is?" I yelled. "Oh," I said, mimicking his voice, "this must be the IMPOSTER. Gods FORBID-"  
  
"Will ye be quiet?" hissed Eve, clearly unsettled. "I KNOW he's an ass, but 'e's King, and we gotta listen to 'im."  
  
"And who says?" I demanded, stopping Eve with a hand. "Who says I gotta listen to that white-faced old fart in there, eh? I'm not-"  
  
Eve erupted into giggles. "White-faced old fart?"  
  
"I'm not part of your Rogue," I finished, still angry. "And as long as I'm not, I don't have to listen to your King." I stalked down the hall. "I'll let myself out," I called over my shoulder to Eve. "Don't bother trying to find me."  
  
She started to protest, but I was already leaping down the stairs and out the door of the Dancing Dove.  
  
I was alone. 


	5. The Stable Boy

They love me! They REALLY love me! * bursts into tears * Oh, I just LOVE it when I get reviews!!! YAY!  
  
Eve Eastborne-That is for me to know and you to find out for thee moment...hee hee...You'll understand later on. THANKS!  
  
Kurleyhawk2-You wouldn't happen to be a country fan, would you? I like it, I love it, I want some more of it! I try so hard I can't--* realizes that everyone is staring at her like she is some kind of mutant country-obsessed freak * well...You know. Tis a good song! Thanks!  
  
Bird-WHY THANK YOU!  
  
Now that I have thanked my ever-so-faithful reviewers, we shall continue on with the story.  
  
Disclaim: I OWN EVERYTHING. Well, all right, I won nothing 'cept Randi, Sote, and the street people, and everything else is Tamora Pierce's, but...IT SHALL SOON BE MINE! MWAHAHAHA!!! * chokes from evil laughter * Cough, cough, ANYWAYS...  
  
Outside the air was cool. It was still pretty early in the morning, and fog I hadn't seemed to notice before wisped around the street. I started back to the market. The shops that had seemed bright and friendly just minutes before now seemed dark and formidable.  
  
Great, I thought. Just great. NOW what're you going to do? Try to find your way back home from an uncharted planet? I knew I had messed up. That part of my brain, the one that sees things somewhat rationally, had been yelling in my ear not to do anything stupid, but there's the other side, the side that won't ever shut up, the one that urges me to do stuff I always regret, had been yelling too, and it had won. I cursed myself inside.  
  
I pushed my way through the hoards of people. I knew Eve wasn't following me. And even if she was, I didn't care. I wasn't going to go back with her. Although where I was going now, I hadn't the slightest idea.  
  
First things first, I told myself. Finding a public restroom. Okay, in Chicago, and maybe even in Sheboygan, every store and shop has a bathroom. It's as simple as that. Nice flushing toilets, soft toilet paper, maybe even fluffy hand towels if you're lucky. I seriously doubted that I was going to find fluffy hand towels here. What I did find, after wandering around in circles for several minutes, fuming, was a nice isolated tree.  
  
The next order of business was to...Well, I didn't exactly know what I was going to do next. I mean, what would you do if suddenly you found yourself in a world you thought nonexistent since last night? Go sightseeing? Go to the local arcade and bum quarters, or nobles or whatever? I didn't know anyone here, and I didn't know the streets. Put the two together, and it isn't that safe, no matter where you are. Finally, I just sat down on a doorstep and took out the book. I began to read, trying to find something in here that might help me.  
  
  
  
Maude, the village healer, listened to them and said nothing. When Alanna finished, the woman turned and stared out the door for long minutes. Finally she looked at the twins again.  
  
They didn't know it, but Maude was in difficulty. She had taught them all the magic she possessed. They were both capable of learning much more, but there were no other teachers at Trebond. Thom wanted everything he could get from his magic, but he disliked people. He listened to Maude only because he thought she had something left to teach him; he hated Coram-the other adult to looked after the twins-because Coram made him feel stupid. The only person in the world Thom loved, besides himself, was Alanna. Maude thought about Alanna and sighed. The girl was very different from her brother. Alanna was afraid of her magic. Thom had to be ordered to hunt, and Alanna had to be tricked and begged into trying spells.  
  
The woman had been looking forward to the day when someone else would have to handle these two.  
  
  
  
I shifted. I bet you anything mom was looking forward to the day someone else would have to take care of her good-for-nothing slacker of a daughter who couldn't stay out of trouble if her life depended on it.  
  
  
  
Now it seemed the gods were going to test her through them one last time.  
  
She shook her head. "I cannot make such a decision without help. I must try and See, in the fire."  
  
  
  
Finally! Something about magic...Eve had said something about Seeing, or the Sight-being able to see the past, present, and future.  
  
  
  
Thom frowned. "I thought you couldn't. I thought you could only heal."  
  
Maude wiped sweat from her face. She was afraid. "Never mind what I can do and what I cannot do," she snapped. "Alanna, bring wood. Thom, vervain."  
  
They rushed to do as she said, Alanna returning first to add wood to the fire already burning on the hearth. Thom soon followed, carrying leaves from the magic plant called vervain.  
  
Maude knelt before the hearth and motioned for the twins to sit on either side of her. She felt sweat running down her back. People who tried to use magic the gods had not given to them often died in ugly ways. Maude gave a silent prayer to the Great Mother Goddess, promising good behavior for the rest of her days if only the Goddess would keep her in one piece through this.  
  
She tossed the leaves into the fire, her lips moving silently with the sacred words. Power from her and from the twins slowly filled the fire. The flames turned green from Maude's sorcery and purple for the twins'. The woman drew a deep breath and grabbed the twins' left hands, thrusting them into the fire. Power shot up their arms. Thom yelped and wriggled with the pain of the magic now filling him up. Alanna bit her lower lip till it bled, fighting the pain her own way. Maude's eyes were wide and blank as she kept their intertwined hands in the flames.  
  
  
  
"Hey, ye," I gruff voice said above my head.  
  
I looked up. I was staring at the biggest man I had ever laid eyes on. He was huge, with a flabby face covered in bristles and arms the size of large hams. His stomach rolled out from a mustard-yellow tunic. He grabbed me by my collar and held me up to his face. The book fell to the ground.  
  
"It was ye, wasn't it?" he spat. His breath smelled like decaying pork.  
  
"What d'you mean, 'It was me'?" I asked. "I didn't do no nothin'."  
  
"Yes ye did," the man insisted, squinting up his eyes. "You and yer li'l thief friends-ye've been targetin' me shop, taking what ain't rightfully yers."  
  
I started to protest.  
  
"Well, it ain't right, and I'm a gonna teach ye a lesson 'bout it, see?" The man raised a fist, preparing to punch my face in.  
  
Hundreds of thoughts went through my head all at once. So there isn't such a thing as child abuse here-God, what'd he just eat-Zarif? Does he think I'm Zarif-Duck, Randi, he's gonna hit-No mom, no, I didn't do anything- Please no please--That stupid Jorshan-Just Chet to me friends, all right-- Why did I have to read that book-You ain't in Chicago anymore, Randi, welcome to Corus-DUCK!  
  
I through my head to the side, just in time. The man's fist knocked me hard on the shoulder, but it didn't hurt near as much as it would've in my eye. I struggled to free myself, kicking and clawing, as the man cursed.  
  
"Damn you," he huffed, "li'l shit."  
  
I found my arms and clawed his arm, kicking at his stomach. The angry man grunted and let go, stooping, giving me the chance to jam my elbow into his face. It wouldn't hurt him, not much anyways, just get him pissed. Without thinking I used all my weight to push him to the ground, on his hands and knees, while I yanked one of his arms up behind his back. It was hard, and I knew it wouldn't work, but I did it anyway, I was so scared. The man got up, and picked me off of his back like I was a flea, then took my by my shirt and threw me into a wall. I slammed into it hard, and my shoulder felt as if it had cracked.  
  
Panting and red in the face, then man gasped, "That'll teach you li'l beggars to come stealin' at MY shop agin!" He waddled away.  
  
I slunk down to the ground, feeling dizzy. I was mad at myself. I had let that guy beat me, just as mom used to, and even when I tried to do something, it didn't work. I sat there, gazing out at the streets, gathering a few stares, trying to get my breathing return to normal.  
  
So this is what it's like in Corus, I though angrily. Anyone can hurt anyone, just because they're bigger and-  
  
"Is this yours?" A voice in my ear asked calmly.  
  
I jumped and saw a boy, about my age, standing over me. His skin was a creamy brown, lighter than mine. He had friendly eyes, a deep brown, and black hair that hung partly in front of his face. His nose was too big to make him look attractive, but when he smiled his straight white teeth seemed to make up for it. (A/N: Does this sound familiar???) He was wearing plain brown britches, a white cotton shirt, and a leather belt with several bags hanging from it. He didn't look like a street kid. He was holding my book.  
  
"Yeah," I said, managing to find my voice. I took the book from him, and he helped me to my feet. "Thanks."  
  
"Are you all right?" the boy asked.  
  
"I'm fine," I said irritably. "It was just a little misunderstanding. I can take care of myself." I went and stuffed my book into my bag, which had fallen several feet away.  
  
"Hey," the boy said, "I'm Sote Carrium." (A/N: Pronounced SO-tay CARRY- um...not like the frying thing.)  
  
"Randi DiCarlos," I muttered.  
  
"You ain't from around here," Sote noted casually. "You sound like you're from the south. You ain't Bazhir, are you?"  
  
"No," I replied sharply, wondering who the heck the Bazhir was.  
  
"Good. You look it, though. Pa don't like the Bazhir-says they're tryin' to steal his business-and he don't want me talking to them, neither. We sell horses," Sote explained, as he led me into the crowd. "Raise 'em, too. Best in Corus. Bazhirs, now, they got horses too, pure breds, but they work 'em too hard. Put 'em to use in the deserts, they do. But we've got a stable, and we 'ave fifteen different breeds right now." Sote began to the name off horse breeds as I stared nervously out at the street, looking to see if any more merchants were wanting to kill me. "Arabians, thoroughbreds, quarter, paints, pintos..."  
  
"Look," I said, interrupting Sote's list of horses, "d'you know any place that I could get a job?"  
  
He stopped and stared blankly at me. "A job?"  
  
"You know, so I could get some money?"  
  
"Oh, yeah." He grinned slyly at me. "You could always help out at the stables."  
  
I rolled my eyes. "You can stop flirting with me," I said venomously. His grin faded, but I didn't care. I was in no mood to mess with a lovesick stable boy. "And I'm from the city-I don't know anything 'bout horses."  
  
"Well then," Sote said, staring up at the sky. "You could 'elp out at merchants' stalls. They always need an extra hand." He looked back at me. "Just go up to one o' them and ask if you can help."  
  
"Um," I said uneasily, "I don't think now would be the best time to be 'round merchants."  
  
Sote glanced curiously at me, but brushed the look away. "Go to an inn. You're sure to find work there."  
  
"Where's the nearest inn?"  
  
"I dunno. Maybe you could try the Golden Harp, 'bout one street down. Big place, it is-not hard to find. Run by Pat Idle. He'll make you work." With a laugh, Sote slipped into the crowd. "I'll be seeing you, Randi!" he called.  
  
"I bet," I muttered, then started down the street.  
  
  
  
Sorry it was so short, peeps...But yay, I got a new character in, even if his name is pronounced like a cooking technique. R/S??? You decide...All right. And I KNOW this wasn't as good a chapter as the last...but my brain's dead. Well, until next chapter, SEE YA! 


	6. A Bit of Craziness

YAY! REVIEWS!  
  
Raziah Surya-THANKS! I think some of the grammatical errors might've happened when I started to make the street people talk with a Cockney accent halfway through...By the way, COOL name!!! * bobs head *  
  
Eve Eastborne-As I said before...Tis for moi to know, and ya to find oot. (Pardon the French accent.) Really, I DOOOOOO know, but if I told you now, half the bleedin' story would be given away, and that wouldn't be very nice. But...I'll just say that if you kinda put the things I said together (probation, drinking, knives, abuse...that kinda thing) it'll make more sense. For now anyways. I dunno. Think of Randi as a mysterious juvenile delinquent who has a tragic past and now is at the end of her sanity, lost in a foreign land of magic, sorcery, and knights...* swoons * Yay, I love messing with my characters' minds...lol. Thanks!  
  
Now, our wonderful characteroo, Randi, has just been instructed to journey a block away in search of a marvelous inn ran by a slightly mad old coot, courtesy of her new best friend Sote, the lovesick stable boy with a flair for French cooking, (omg...did I really just write that? Lol, I'm on a sugarhigh) and will now proceed. I don't know if that made sense, and right now, I don't particularly care. TO BEGIN! * starts beating table computer is resting on with a tree branch that came out of nowhere * BOW DOWN TO ME, LOWLY MAHOGANY TABLE! I AM YOUR MASTER NOW! MWAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! La cucaracha! La cucaracha! Dee dee dee dee dee dee dee dee...La cucaracha! La cucaracha! Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo! Omg...I was just playing Hearts on the computer, and my scores where as following: 25, 42, and 66. LOL!!!  
  
Disclaim: Me no own, you no sue, read me story, and then review.  
  
OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I CAN RHYME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ("Rhyme"...Such a funny word!)  
  
  
  
The inn WAS big. Not Chicago big, but big for medieval Corus. It was four stories high, with a garden in the back, and a low stone wall wrapping around the entire estate. For a moment I just stood outside, staring up at the building. Of course Sote would send me here, I thought. It's big and'll need maids. It's probably a popular place for the local merchants, too...But it was either this or sleeping out on the streets, cold and hungry, and I wasn't about to let that happen, so I opened the front gate and let myself in.  
  
The main room must've been a tavern, like in the Dancing Dove, because a bar was set up on one end and tables were spread over the floor. Only a few people sat at them, but they were dressed in traveling clothes, laughing, and only glanced up at me. Looking around, I wondered where I was going to find Pat Idle, the inn's owner. I mean, at NORMAL hotels you just go up to the front desk and BOOM, you're checked in, as long as you have the cash. I made my way up to the bar, where an elderly man was counting some coins.  
  
"Hey," I said, leaning towards him. "D'you know where I could find the owner? Pat Idle?"  
  
The man glanced furtively up at me, his eyes a watery blue. "Pat Idle?" he repeated. His voice was shaky, but deep.  
  
I nodded.  
  
"Why are you looking for Pat Idle?" he asked, raising one side of his gray unibrow.  
  
"'Cause I need to, see? I'm looking for work."  
  
"Work?" The old man cleared his throat. "You are but a child. Children needn't work."  
  
"They do when they ain't got no moolah," I shot back hotly.  
  
The man looked up at me, obviously puzzled. "Moo-lah," he said finally. "Moo-lah." He chuckled and went back to counting his coins.  
  
I sighed and slapped a hand on the bar. I wasn't interested in explaining the meaning of American slang terms to him at the moment, so I said, "So d'you know where I could find PAT IDLE?"  
  
"Yessir, respect your elders, child, respect your elders."  
  
I stared at him, flabbergasted. "What the--?" I rubbed my forehead with a hand. "Okay. Let's start over. I am looking for PAT IDLE, owner of this INN. Would you kindly point me in the right direction so I might actually FIND HIM?"  
  
The man continued to chuckle.  
  
"Fine," I said. "Fine. I'll leave you to your craziness, thank you, and be on my way."  
  
I turned and started to weave back through the tables.  
  
"I'm Pat Idle," the man called back after me, in a sweet, singsong voice.  
  
I stopped, and, showing all my teeth, spun around. "You know," I said conversationally, on the very edge of my sanity, "that's great. That really is." I started to giggle hysterically. "Because, here I am, saying to myself, 'If you don't find Pat Idle, you're probably going to end up just as crazy as that man at that bar over there, living on the streets, and that wouldn't be very fun, now would it?'" I stooped over, wheezing with laughter. I had to lean on one of the tables to breath. The travelers looked at me as if I were nuts. "Yes! Yes!" I shouted, hitting the table with a fist. "Well, here I am now, finding out that YOU are Pat Idle, and now," I said, starting to slow down and look as mournful as a dead cow, "you're probably going to take me for loony and throw me out, aren't you?" I threw up my hands and sighed happily.  
  
A moment of silence followed my insane outburst.  
  
"You're HIRED," Pat Idle said, pointing at me and marking something in a book.  
  
I couldn't help it. With one last shrill psychotic laugh, I collapsed to the floor.  
  
***'  
  
"I think she's coming 'round," a man's voice said. A large, warm hand patted my cheek. "C'mon," the man cooed. "Wake up, everything's fine....wake up..."  
  
My eyes fluttered open. I was staring up at Pat Idle. I twisted my face into a hideous grin. "Hell-ooooooooooooooo," I said.  
  
The man smiled. "She's awake."  
  
"Oh, but I'm not," I said, pulling myself up into a sitting position. "This is all a dream, and when I wake up, I'll be back home in a little room with dusty curtains and you will all be bye-bye." I stretched my ears out with my hands. "I am a tawny owl," I remarked, making them move back and forth slowly. "I would be Dumbo, the amazing flying elephant, since elephants flying is the greatest thing since sliced bread, but I had to be an owl instead," I explained. I jumped to my feet. "I know who you are!" I shouted to Pat, pointing an accusing finger at him. I raised an eyebrow at him, like I was some kind of superior life form. "You're Merlin, the Happy Pig!" (A/N: Another Blackadder line. Don't ask.) Pat smiled lopsidedly at me.  
  
"Yes, all right, but-"  
  
"No, no, no," I insisted, waving a hand at him. "You keep the scones, Edgar, I couldn't possibly-"  
  
"I really think you should-"  
  
I stared at him, horrified. "You're-you're one of THEM!" I shrieked, scrambling away. I fell right into one of the travelers, who had been watching me the whole time. "And you! You stay away from me!" I hopped daintily across the tables, bending occasionally to pick a nonexistent daisy, while the group of people watched me in awe. "See," I said clearly, in my best Martha Stuart voice, "if you arrange the flowers just SO, you will have the perfect ornate HOLY BAZOOKA BUBBLEGUM! WHATEVER GAVE YOU THAT hearts stars and rainbows, clovers and blue moons, pots of golden-" I stopped, then stood with my hands and my sides, back straight. "And we shall live in INFAMY oh yeah," I cried, shimmying across the table, "oh yeah, shake your bootie!" I stopped again and look outraged. "'Cause I'm a little PIX-ie!"  
  
Pat Idle and several concerned travelers took me by the arms, while I shouted out the verses of the Star Spangled Banner. The last thing I remember, before they made me swallow something utterly unpleasant, was that they were laying me onto a great big bed, and a woman came into the room, dressed in a funny-looking hat.  
  
  
  
Whoo-wee...I know NONE of that made any sense whatsoever, but as I said, I'm on a sugarhigh (I like Mounds bars named Fred) and felt like writing something really dumb. Or clever, or witty, or just plain stupid. I dunno. So if you don't like my beautiful work * sniffs * you can REVIEW and SAY SO!!! 


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